Blemish the night, once pastel, now greying in the eclipse of the moons sphere.
Orbiting in space and a solemn place,
I can hear her laughter from the porch- a familiar warmth aroused into a harsh drift.
Decaying through the screen door; kept needle points of thirsty friends,
Accompanying the moon but so far away.
Like distance we swore we understood,
The air dense with haste and how we could not move.